


Dial B for Braincell

by Bunnywest



Series: Keep Calm and Read Steter [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Slash, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Peter stares at the phone in dismay.  Shit. “I-“ Peter clears his throat. “Apologies. I appear to have the wrong number.”There’s a chuckle. “No shit, Sherlock. And who the hell doesn’t know what Machu Picchu is?”Peter relaxes somewhat at not getting blasted, and sighs. “My date. He was pretty, but brain-dead.”The voice on the other end makes a sympathetic sound. “Wanna talk about it?”
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Keep Calm and Read Steter [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679953
Comments: 82
Kudos: 2088





	Dial B for Braincell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DiscontentedWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscontentedWinter/gifts).



> Winter's prompt was short and sweet - "Wrong Number."

It’s late when Peter gets in, and he slumps on the couch and pulls off his tie, throwing it across the room in a fit of self pity. He’d known ten minutes in that the date was a bust. They’ve all been a bust lately, and the problem certainly isn’t _him_. He’s charming, handsome and successful. It’s just he can’t seem to find anyone who piques his interest.

Peter picks up his phone and dials without looking. He knows it’s late, but he also knows Cora will listen to him bitch without complaint. When the phone’s picked up he doesn’t even bother with a hello. “Honestly, is it too much to ask for someone to be attractive _and_ have a brain cell? This date, I swear. How this man ever got into college, let alone graduated, is beyond me. He thought Machu Picchu was a Pokemon. That’s it, I’m done. I’m staying single forever, and getting a cat or a fleshlight.”

There’s a moment’s silence, and a voice replies that's definitely not Cora’s, and definitely male. “Dude, you know those two things aren’t interchangeable, right?”

Peter stares at the phone in dismay. Shit. “I-“ Peter clears his throat. “Apologies. I appear to have the wrong number.”

There’s a chuckle. “No shit, Sherlock. And who the hell doesn’t know what Machu Picchu is?”

Peter relaxes somewhat at not getting blasted, and sighs. “My date. He was pretty, but brain-dead.”

The voice on the other end makes a sympathetic sound. “Wanna talk about it?”

Peter glances at the clock. It’s nearly eleven, but the voice _did_ offer, and its owner already sounds more intelligent that the Chad he went to dinner with. “I don’t want to keep you awake.”

Voice makes a dismissive sound. “It’s fine. And besides, I’m invested now. I wanna hear about the disaster date.” Peter hesitates, but the voice continues, “If it helps, I promise I have a braincell. Some days I’ve been known to have two.”

Peter smiles despite himself. “And what, exactly, do you do with said braincells?”

“Software designer. S’why I’m awake. The guy I’m working with is in Australia and time zones are a pain in my ass. Still, why schlepp my ass over there on a plane when I can do it all digitally, right?”

Peter finds himself liking whoever this is. “So, you’re meant to be working but you’re playing hooky with a stranger?” he teases. Voice laughs, and oh, that’s a nice sound. Peter would like to hear more of it. “So, you really want to hear about my date? I warn you, it's quite the tragic tale.”

“Yeah man, hit me with it. It can't be worse than the last guy I dated. He was convinced the supernatural was real, but he kept talking about bestiaries and confusing them with bestialities.”

Peter laughs out loud. “Sounds like an absolute moron.”

Mysterious Stranger snorts. “He really was. I mean, you’re not wrong. Attractive and smart’s hard to find these days.” There’s the sound of shuffling, possibly the voice's owner getting comfortable, and then he asks, “Hey where are you, anyway? Am I talking to the other side of the country?”

“I’m in New York,” Peter offers. “You?”

“Same!” Peter’s absurdly pleased by that. “Maybe we could meet sometime for a drink?” Voice says.

Peter doesn’t answer right away, mentally running through his calendar, and the voice says, “Sorry, forget it. That was weird and probably creepy.”

He’s right, but that doesn’t mean Peter's not interested. “I’ll tell you what,” he suggests. “Why don’t we start with names and go from there?”

“Yeah, that could work. I’m Stiles, Stiles Stilinski.”

Peter makes a disbelieving sound. “Your parents named you _Stiles Stilinski?”_

He gets a groan in return. “I know, okay? My legal name’s a nightmare so I go by Stiles. What can I say? Polish grandparents.”

Peter puts his phone on speaker and sets it down before opening his laptop and typing the name in. A LinkedIn profile pops up, and _Oh._ Stiles is gorgeous _._ Deep brown eyes that Peter could get lost in, a turned-up nose, and a smirk that suggests nothing but trouble of the best kind. He clicks on the next few images and there’s Stiles in a suit, Stiles in a beanie and horn-rimmed glasses, and best of all, an old school yearbook photo where he looks about twelve. “My my, that buzzcut did you no favors at all, did it?”

There’s an outraged sputter. “Wait, are you googling me? Don’t google me! School photos are inadmissible evidence!”

“Oh, I think I’d know if that were the case,” Peter replies with a smirk. “I’m a lawyer, after all.”

“Oh? Gonna give me your name so I can stalk you online as well? Fair’s fair.”

“It’s Peter Hale,” he says, distracted by the pictures in front of him.

“I’m totally looking you up,” Stiles informs him. There’s the sound of the keystrokes, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “ _Damn_. That’s you?”

“I assume so – what picture are you looking at?”

“There’s a v neck, and stubble, and god, you’re made of neck and sex appeal. Please tell me that’s you?”

“It certainly sounds like me.” Peter knows exactly which picture Stiles is looking at, and he’s quietly pleased he found that one. It does show him at his best. “So, do I look like a serial killer, or am I a safe bet for a drink?”

More clicks from a keyboard. “I think I’d like that.” Stiles hesitates. “Just one question first, though.”

“Hmm?” Peter’s already planning their date.

“You did mean to say a cat _and_ a fleshlight, right?”

Peter laughs, delighted. He can already tell Stiles is going to keep him on his toes. "Well, sweetheart," he purrs."If you're as delightful in person as you sound over the phone, I might not need either."

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey, look! A sneaky sequel! [And Now You Know](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25878157)


End file.
